Winnie the Pooh and Russian Mail Order Brides Too
by Rose103
Summary: Roo has a new computer to help him with his schoolwork, only he isn't doing his homework on it.
1. Chapter 1

Part One

"Hey Kanga what's cooking babe?" Tigger asked one fall evening as he dribbled a basketball through Kanga's kitchen.

"A sprout and cherry fig casserole," Kanga replied.

"Oh sick," Tigger wrinkled up his nose with disgust. "I think I'll go eat at the 7-11 tonight or order Papa John's."

Tigger rented the apartment over Kanga's garage. Since he usually could barely scrape up enough to pay the rent, Kanga helped him out by offering free dinners. At the first dinner Tigger had had there he knew why it was free. It was tofu chops with seaweed and grilled organic roots. He had such bad gas after, that monks in the Tibetan mountains could smell it. Ever since he had been weary of Kanga's cooking.

"No one asked your opinion," Kanga replied. "It's healthy for you."

"I'll tell you what's healthy," said Tigger. "Letting little Roo come shoot some hoops with me. Where is he? I've hardly seen him lately. He used to be my little homeboy. We'd chill together."

"He's upstairs in his bedchamber on his new computer," said Kanga. "Roo just loves his little Mac. He spends all of his time on it."

"You don't have a problem with this?" Tigger asked.

"Not really," Kanga replied. "He runs around outdoors enough in gym class and he plays little league football. I couldn't be more tickled he's taken such an interest in the computer. There is so much he can learn with his Encarta Encyclopedia, and last week I bought him some really great software about space."

"Computer?" Tigger repeated and wrinkled his nose in even more disgust then he had just did over sprout and cherry fig casserole. "You mean computer like Bill Gates?"

"Yes," Kanga replied. "Don't tell me you don't know what a computer is."

"I know what a computer is," said Tigger. "Little nerdy whiz kids like to sit and play with them all day. You can't let Roo become one of these kids."

"Bill Gates was one of those kids," Kanga replied. "I wouldn't be upset if Roo turned out like Bill Gates. There is a web site all about plate tectonics. I think I'm going to tell Roo to check it out after dinner. With his new computer and AOL account Roo can learn about anything. He used the Internet to find all his information on his report about Patrick Henry for history class."

"I just can't see Roo using a computer," Tigger argued.

"Well he sure needs it," said Kanga. "About a month ago Roo brought home his first math and spelling tests and he got a D on the spelling test and failed the math test. I found a math software program at the mall but I needed a computer to go with it. So Geoff and I thought it would be a good idea to get Roo his own computer so he could use all these new educational DVD computer games. We got him a couple of math ones and one on grammar and one on spelling. Plus with the Internet he can look up stuff for reports and read excerpts from _The Wall Street Journal _and he can print out professional looking reports. He just adores it. He spends all his free time on it. He'll know his multiplication tables so good he'll be number one in the class."

"Whatever," Tigger replied. He still couldn't picture Roo sitting on a computer playing math games on it for hours on end. Roo hated to read anything beyond comic books. The only math he did was counting up his collection of baseball cards. He dribbled the basketball around the kitchen table. Not only could he not picture Roo sitting in his room happily playing some educational video game on a computer, but Tigger was a little jealous. Tigger had spent lots of time with Roo. Since Roo's father was a high power defense attorney, he spent long hours at his law practice, and making TV appearances on _On the Record _with Greta Van Susteran. This left little time to play with Roo. Tigger was the one who got Roo into little league football and baseball. Since Roo got the coveted role of the team's kicker, Tigger had to show Roo how to kick the football. He had held the ball for countless hours so Roo could practice punting. Whenever Kanga got too scattered and overloaded she always asked Tigger to pick Roo up from practice or school. On these days Tigger always swung Roo by Friendly's for a forbidden-by-Kanga clown sundae drenched in whip cream, caramel, and chocolate sauce. He took Roo to rated R movies, monster truck rallies at the Old Pontiac Silverdome, and to his bud Pete Moss's house. Pete Moss was a nephew of Oakland Raiders wide receiver Randy Moss, and watched over Randy's Hundred Acre Wood vacation cabin while Randy was in California. Randy let Pete use any of the toys he had there, and Pete let his friends use Randy's toys. To a boy like Roo Randy's house was better than FAO Swartz with it's pool table, air hockey table, jet skies, dirt bikes, in home movie theater, and Slushpuppie machine.

Tigger didn't mind doing all of these things for little Roo. He seriosuly believed that he was culturing the boy and Roo boosted his ego. It was nice having a groupie sidekick whom looked up to you and didn't think that your shit stank.

"Please Tigger," Kanga scolded. "No basketball inside the house." Tigger quit dribbling the ball.

"Sorry babe," he muttered.

"Quit calling me babe," Kanga demanded.

That evening after their scrumptious sprout and cherry fig casserole Tigger and Roo hit the road before Kanga brought out some utterly revolting soy flour wheat germ cake contraption that would give everybody the shits for two weeks for dessert. Roo was about to fly up the stairs back to his precious computer but Tigger caught hold of his tail and yanked him over.

"Hey Roo want to go see the new Adam Sandler movie?" He asked.

"Oh gee Tigger I would love to, but I have too much homework for tomorrow. It's a school night anyway."

"We've sneaked out to movies on school nights before," Tigger answered. "That's half the fun."

"I really have too much homework," Roo argued.

"How much homework can a third grader have?" Tigger asked. "It's not like you go to one of those high end prep schools. At Hundred Acre Wood Elementary you don't get that much homework in third grade."

"Well I have a huge paper to do," Roo said.

"That has never stopped you from going out and seeing a movie before," Tigger pointed out. "Your mother told me that you have been doing homework in your room on your computer all afternoon. How can you possibly sit in front of a computer screen doing math problems for hours and hours a day?"

"Mom told you I was doing math problems?" Roo asked.

"Yeah she says all you ever do is play with your math software and look up things in Encarta on your new computer," Tigger replied.

"Oh I ain't doing no math problems," Roo said. "I'm not using Encarta either."

"She says you are," said Tigger.

Roo motioned for Tigger to bend over so Roo could whisper something into his ear.

"Tigger," he whispered. "I haven't played the math game since the day my dad set the computer up for me in my room, and Encarta is still in the box, unopened, uninstalled."

"Then what the hell is so interesting about staring at a computer all day?" Tigger asked.

"Trust me," Roo replied. "The computer is very interesting."


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two 

Roo motioned for Tigger to follow him upstairs. Once they were in his bed chamber Roo closed the door for privacy. Tigger rolled his eyes at the electric blue I- Mac that sat perched on top of Roo's desk like a king on a throne. "Buddy stealer," he thought.

"I just have to wake it up," Roo said.

"Wake it up?" Tigger asked.

"Yeah dude, the computer is asleep," said Roo. He sat down and clicked the mouse. The computer awoke from its slumber.

"So what's so fascinating about this thing?" Tigger demanded.

"I'm going to show you something," said Roo as he logged himself online. "You have to promise not to tell anyone, especially Mom and Dad."

"You can count on me," Tigger said.

"Promise?" Asked Roo.

"Roo did I tell on you the time you smuggled a bottle of your Dad's vodka up to your room and guzzled the whole bottle over a fifteen minute period?" Tigger said. "I had Kanga convinced you had food poisoning from some organic tofu burger slop that she had made that night for dinner. And when you were puking all over the place the next morning she kissed your ass and let you stay home from school and went out and bought you a new Play Station game."

"Well okay," said Roo. "Pinky swear?"

"Oh honestly Roo spit it out," Tigger demanded. "What did you do? Blow up a gas station? Scalp Detroit Lions tickets?

"I show you now," Roo said as he clicked his way into his online mailbox. "I have a girlfriend."

"Great," said Tigger. "At least it's not a boyfriend."

"She's in Russia," Roo went on.

"Russia?" Tigger asked. "Well Russian chicks are hot. Where'd you meet her? She an exchange student or something?"

"Hell no," Roo laughed. "She cleans houses and does some modeling. She lives in a flat with her mother."

"That's nice," Tigger replied. "She hot?"

"Oh yes," said Roo.

"Blonde?" Tigger asked.

"Yes."

"Blue eyed?"

"Uh huh."

"Then what's the big problem?" Tigger asked. "Why so secretive?"

"She's thirty-two," Roo squeaked.

"What!" Tigger screamed.

"Shush. I don't want Mom coming up here," Roo said.

"What in the hell are you doing with a thirty-two year old Russian babe?" Tigger asked. "Better yet what the hell is a thirty-two year old Russian babe doing with a third grade Joey from the backwoods of Detroit?"

"Well she doesn't know I'm a third grade Joey," Roo said. "I kind of sweetened the pot a little."

"What does she know?" Tigger asked. "Where'd you meet her?"

"On the web," Roo answered. "We've been writing for about a month. She's sent me some pictures." Roo opened his mailbox to reveal some photos of a voluptuous, blond, Russian chick sitting with her legs crossed in an extremely short skirt and midriff top. Some of the other photos had even racier poses or her lying naked under bed covers with the pouty deer-in-the-headlights look.

"Wow," Tigger exclaimed. "Whoa." He was speechless.

"Hey Tigger you're drooling," Roo laughed. "Wait until you read what she writes to me." Roo clicked on some of the letters she had sent so Tigger could read them.

My Darling Roo,

Your letters make me feel like a rose blossoming on a new spring day, I await your letters with great anticipation, like a child on Christmas morn. My whole day is a flood of light when you write to me. Even though we have never met I can feel your strong manly biceps holding me like a butterfly in a cocoon. I feel safe and secure when you are near so I sleep with your letters under my pillow. I love you and I know I would love America because it is a part of you. I hope you take care and do not get too stressed out with your work. I know you are very busy with your patients and I admire your skill and hard work. You are the ideal man. I long to be one of your patients so I could feel your strong, steady, hands upon me, curing me from all that is bad and wrapping me endlessly in your love.

With kisses, hugs, and snuggles,

Your Sveta.

"Your Sveta?" Tigger said.

"Ain't she cool?" Roo replied.

"What's the patient stuff she rattles on about?" Tigger asked. "What work are you so stressed about? Third grade ain't stressful."

"She doesn't know I'm in the third grade," Roo said quietly.

"What does she know about you?" Tigger asked. Instead Roo brought up an online greeting card from Blue Mountain that Sveta had sent.

"Isn't this cute?" It had a puppy who popped out of a doghouse holding a huge heart.

"She sends cards adequate enough for a third grader," Tigger said. "Roo aren't you concerned at all? She's an adult and she sounds like she's got some feelings for you. You're a child. That kind of stuff is illegal."

"She's in Russia I am here," said Roo. "Nothing is going to happen. I'm not going to press charges. I wrote to her first anyway."

"I still don't get why she would even reply to a kid," Tigger said.

"Well what if she didn't know that I'm a kid," Roo replied. He began to click and bring up other letters from Sveta.

"Roo what the hell does this chick know about you?" Tigger demanded.

"That I'm a thirty-five year old neurosurgeon who drives a jaguar, works out at the gym, and likes to take long walks on the beach," Roo squeaked.

"Roo!" Tigger gasped. "Those are all big fat lies. You could get caught."

"Oh Tigger she's in Russia. She's poor. She has no money. She can't pay to have me fly over there or vice versa. We'll just write back and forth. It's fun. She's getting cultured. She's even taking some English lessons now but we still use the translator."

"Translator?" Tigger asked.

"Yeah. I met Sveta through an agency called Russian Romance. On their web site you can browse hundreds of photos of gorgeous Russian chicks and pick one to your liking that you would like to write to. The letters go through a translator because I don't speak Russian and Sveta's English is shaky. The agency also offers gifts that you can buy and send. For our one month anniversary I sent Sveta some perfume, and she sent me a shaving set."

"You don't shave yet," Tigger said. "Kangaroos never shave. Does she know you're a kangaroo."

"No," Roo squeaked. "But what she doesn't know can't hurt her. She's poor she has nothing in dreary, communist, Russia, to look forward to except my letters. You read how it's like her Christmas. Let her be happy. Let her have some joy."

"Until she finds out you're a kid, you're a kangaroo, and you drive a tricycle," Tigger added.

"She won't she's in Russia. Please don't tell Mom," said Roo. "Sveta's really hot. I don't see any danger in what I'm doing."

"I won't tell your mom on one condition," Tigger announced. "You tell me how I can get a Russian chick to email, and let me use your computer sometimes to do it."


	3. Chapter 3

PART THREE

It wasn't that bad sharing a computer with Tigger. It was actually kind of fun because they could compare their lettersfrom their Russian women. Tigger had selected a twenty-six year old waitress named Oksanna. The letters between Roo and Sveta were growing deeper and more intimate by the day. Sveta even proclaimed Roo as her reason for being, the reason she was born, her destiny, her world. At their two month anniversary Roo sent her a tennis bracelet he bought through the online agency and she sent him some fine chocolate.

Kanga noticed that Tigger was spending more time up in Roo's room on the computer than shooting hoops outside like he used to. She couldn't imagine Tigger being fascinated by a computer but at least he was out of her hair and since he wasn't outside she didn't have to deal with his sketchy looking friends hanging around yacking with him while they walked back to the halfway house for AA meetings.

One day Roo received a letter from Sveta saying that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She wanted to be the mother of his babies, she wanted to wake up next to him every single day. Like most men Roo was frightened by this letter.

"What do I do Tigger?" Roo asked. "This is too much. I don't want to get married yet. I'm still in elementary school."

"Don't worry about it," Tigger told him. "She's half a world away in Russia with no means of getting over here. Plus you're the man. Unless you present her with the ring you don't have to worry about waking up next to her for the rest of your life. That's what's so grand about having a pen pal so far away. You don't have to worry, and you can still make sure they're hot."

Tigger was really on the Russian pen pal bandwagon. He was writing to six totally gorgeous Russian girls who all totally adored him. Tigger thought that this Russian pen pal agency was the best thing since $5.99 all you can eat buffets.

It was Friday. Roo happily charged on home from school. It was one of those glorious childhood weekends where there wasn't any homework or dippy busywork projects assigned. Roo could devote the whole weekend to watching football, eating pizza, playing with pals, and to fiddling around with Sveta. He woke up his I-Mac and logged online.

"You've got mail," it chirped.

"Yes," Roo chanted. He rarely received snail mail so any mail even if it was online was like a great event. Roo was like a kid going into a candy shop as he pulled up Sveta's latest letter.

_My dear sexy Roo, _

_I have the most wonderful news. I have always wanted to be held in your strong biceps and now my dream can come true. In an hour I will be boarding a plane to America just to see you. I am very excited to visit the Hundred Acre Wood, but most of all to lay snuggled in your arms. I know you are busy with your work so do not worry about me if I come when you are not home. I will wait for you. _

_Love,_

_Your Sveta._

Roo read the letter once, twice, three times. His stomach felt like lead. He felt nauseous. How could this be happening? Why did Sveta have to come all the way to America? Where'd she get the money? Roo was numb with shock.

"Roo, Roo," Kanga called. The sound of his mother calling brought Roo back to reality. "Sweetie," she called. "I have a snack for you."

Roo knew if he didn't take action he wouldn't be known as "Sweetie" for long. Not by Kanga or Sveta. Quickly Roo clicked Sveta's letter off the computer screen as Kanga entered the room carrying a tray with some milk and cookies. "I baked you some vegan soy peanut butter cookies, and here's a glass of soy milk as a little treat to start off your weekend," she announced. The plate of shiny, slimy, cookies made Roo feel even sicker than Sveta's letter had.

"Uh thanks Ma," Roo replied.

"Are you okay?" Kanga asked. "Are you enjoying your new computer?"

"Yes Ma."

"Are you playing your Math Miester game?" Kanga asked.

"Yes" Roo replied.

"Have you tried your Encarta Encyclopedia yet?" Kanga asked.

"Yes Mother."

"Oh I'm so glad. Try looking up the article on the Dead Sea Scrolls," Kanga said. "I think you will find it quite illuminating."

"Yeah," Roo said.

"The Mac Daddy is having a sale on software this weekend," Kanga went on. "There's this software on the human body that might be fun. We could get it for you. It would come in handy when you get to biology class."

"Sure Ma," Roo replied.

"Oh Roo I'm so glad you're taking an interest in your studies now that we got you the computer. We were hesitant to spend the money on it but your father and I both think it was the best money we ever spent. You're reading more, inquiring about the world around you, with the internet everything is within your reach, even if they are world's away."

"Uh just what do you mean?" Roo asked. His heart began to thud. Did Kanga know about Sveta?

"Well say you wanted to study vegetation that only grows in Africa. With the internet you can almost transport yourself to Africa," Kanga explained. "That computer is going to help you get into an ivy league college such as Harvard or Stanford."

"Yeah Ma," Roo said blankly. His mother thought he was up studying African vegetation and Dead Sea Scrolls when he was really busy studying what present to send to Sveta, and what neurosurgeons did in an average day. "Ma I'm thinking. I need some time to myself."

"Uh okay," Kanga said. "I get the hint. You don't want me around. I'll leave you to yourself. If you want more cookies there's more in the kitchen." Once Kanga had left Roo gazed at the gross mound of soy cookies. He mashed one up into a million little crumbs and then dumped it into his glass of milk.

"Disgusting," he moped. He brought up Sveta's letter. He had hoped that maybe by some miraculous grace of God he had read the letter wrong and Sveta wasn't on her way to the Hundred Acre Wood, but it was naïve. For the letter was the exact same as it had been. Just then there the doorbell rang. Roo jumped in his skin. Was she here all ready? Kanga had already answered the door. Roo waited silently just waiting for his ass to get kicked.


	4. Chapter 4

PART FOUR

To his relief he heard the door shut. Roo ran to the window and peered outside. Two Mormon boys were disappearing down the porch stairs and over to the next door neighbor's house.

"Thank God," Roo moaned. But he knew next time he wouldn't be so lucky. Next time it would be Sveta and his mother couldn't answer that door. She couldn't find out about Sveta. Roo checked to see when the letter was written. It was written around one that afternoon. Sveta would probably be showing up the next morning if she wasn't delayed or anything. Roo would have to work fast. But what could he do? His parents never went anywhere on Saturday morning. He couldn't lie and say Sveta had the wrong house because Sveta had sent presents to his address. He would ask Tigger what to do. Tigger was good at scheming and getting out of deep shit. Roo impatiently waited for Tigger to return from his job making sandwiches at Subway. Tigger usually came home at five but this particular day he didn't come home until seven. Roo was bursting with impatience. As soon as Tigger's beat up Oldsmobile Cutlass pulled in the driveway Roo darted over to the garage.

"Tigger," Roo yelled. "Tigger!"

Tigger opened the door. He was still in his Subway uniform.

"Hey I just got home. Give me a break dude."

"Where were you," Roo demanded. "You're supposed to be home at five!"

"Hey who the hell do you think you are?" Tigger shot back. "The day the peanut gallery tells me when I'm supposed to be home is the day I read a Belva Plain novel! Now if you don't mind I have to get ready. Pete Moss invited me to a party at Randy's with chicks from Sweden. I need to take a shower and get this assy looking uniform off before he picks me up."

"Speaking of chicks from Sweden I'm having a problem with my chick from Russia," said Roo knowing this would grab Tigger's attention. Roo explained to Tigger about Sveta coming to the Hundred Acre Wood.

"Wow," Tigger breathed. "You're in deep shit. I'm so glad I'm not you right now."

"What do I do?" Roo whined.

"Find out how to do brain surgery." Tigger said.

"Tigger I need you to be serious," Roo demanded. "If my parents find out they will kill me."

"So will Sveta," Tigger replied.

"What about if I look in the phone book for a neurosurgeon and ask one to stand in for me?" Roo asked. "Then I need to find some way to get my parents out of the house tomorrow."

"Roo if you ask a neurosurgeon to pretend to be you because you lied to your Russian mail order bride they are going to want to do a lobotomy on you," Tigger laughed. "You think some big shot neurosurgeon is going to give up a Saturday of playing golf for you? Even if it means they get a nice slice of hot Russian ass?"

"Well than I have to get Mom and Dad out of the house for the day," said Roo. I'd rather have to turn Sveta away then have them find out. Sveta could be here as early as tomorrow morning. I don't know how I'm going to get my parents out of the house that early. They usually lay in bed until noon on Saturdays. It's my Dad's only day to sleep in."

"I have an idea," said Tigger.

Later that night Roo knocked on the door of his father's study. When Geoff's door was shut it meat that Roo was not supposed to bother him, but this was an emergency. There was no answer so Roo knocked again. Nothing so Roo knocked once again.

"Jesus Christ Roo what the hell do you want?" Geoff bellowed. Roo opened the door and entered the study.

"Hi Pa," said Roo.

"I'm trying to work in here," Geoff barked. "You know when the door is shut that it means I'm busy. Now I'm working on a very high profile case."

"Dad have I ever told you that I love you," Roo began.

"What did you do Roo?" Geoff asked.

"Nothing Father," Roo replied innocently.

"Well then beat it," Geoff barked. "I'm working. Trying to put food on the table. Computers on your desks. Detroit Lions tickets in your wallet."

"Well Dad since you have been so kind to me I wanted to repay your kindness," Roo said. "You bought me that nice computer and all. So I bought you and Mom this." Roo held out a gift certificate for a day in Frankenmuth a little Bavarian theme town about forty-five minutes away. In the certificate Roo had bought them a 25 dollar gift card to Bronner's the world's largest Christmas store. A trip to the Woolen Mill to watch wool being woven into sweaters, a free tasting of cheese from the Cheese Haus, a massage, and a world famous chicken dinner at the Bavarian Inn. Roo had emptied a good part of his life savings but if he didn't get his parents out of the house he wouldn't even need it.

"Gee Roo that's real nice of you," said Geoff. "We'll save it for our anniversary."

"No!" Roo cried. "You see there's a date on it. You have to go tomorrow."

"But I was going to watch college football all day tomorrow," Geoff whined. "Michigan plays the Buckeyes."

"I spent all my money on it though," Roo said. "You have to go. I can't get a refund."

"Well I guess when can go to Frankenmuth tomorrow," Geoff said. "Why don't you come with us."

"The gift certificate is only for two," Roo answered.

"Well I'm sure I can afford another chicken dinner so you can come along too," Geoff said. "We're not going to leave you alone the whole day."

"Please do," Roo cried a little too desperately.

"You all right Roo?" Geoff asked. "You're not going to throw a big party while we're away? I feel like you want us out of the house."

"No Pa. I just want you and Mom to have a nice romantic time alone together," said Roo.

"Well Frankenmuth isn't exactly romantic," Geoff replied. "This isn't like you Roo. This isn't my smart ass son who just the other day told me to go shove a gavel up my rectum because I missed his little league game."

"I'm going to be a better son," Roo said. "This is the first step. You and Ma get a peaceful day away from me, away from Tigger."

"Tigger isn't going to have a party in the house?" Geoff asked. "He's not using the house as a love shack for one of his titty chickies he always has around?"

"No father. I just want you and Ma to know I love you," Roo replied.

As he lay in bed that night he felt a little better because his parents would be out of his way for the day. But he still had to deal with Sveta. Sveta didn't speak English very well which would aid the plan that Roo had brewing.


	5. Chapter 5

PART FIVE

The next morning Roo woke up very early. He made coffee for his parents so they would wake up sooner. He let himself into their bedroom while they were still sleeping, holding a tray of coffee.

"Rise and shine," Roo bellowed and through open the drapes. "Someone's got to get to Frankenmuth."

"Roo it's fucking five in the morning," Geoff growled. "Are you nuts?"

"Geoffrey don't say fuck around Roo," Kanga grumbled and rolled over.

"It's five in the morning," Geoff retorted. "I will say fuck if I want too."

"You want to get to Frankenmuth early," said Roo. "Or else all the good stuff will be gone."

"I'm sure even if we don't get on the road until eight we'll still be able to get a decent hunk of cheese," Geoffrey replied.

"Eight!" Roo cried.

"Roo we're tired. Now go back to bed. Quit being a pain in the ass,"

Roo went to his bedchamber where he paced back and forth. Sveta could easily come in on an early morning flight and the airport was just a half hour taxi ride at most. His parents just had to be gone. Roo amused himself for the next few hours by looking up flights on the Internet. It was impossible to tell which route Sveta took to America. He didn't know which airline she'd come in on. Did she fly from Russia to Germany to Detroit? Russia to Amsterdam to Detroit? Maybe she had to take three different planes. She could have had to make an extra stop in Newark or New York. There were so many different possibilities. Finally his parents got up. Kanga started to make a nauseating breakfast of soy oatmeal with raisins.

"You guys should go out for breakfast," Roo said.

"We'll be going out for dinner," Kanga answered. "I don't like to eat too much restaurant food. They don't prepare it using organic and soy products."

At the breakfast table Geoff was reading the _Detroit Free Press. _On Saturday mornings Geoff liked to take his time poking around and reading the paper. Especially if there was an article about a case he was involved in.

"Dad you can read the paper later," said Roo. "Don't you want to get to Frankenmuth."

"Roo if we leave in a half hour we'd be there by nine o'clock. If we don't leave until seven or eight o'clock at night that's about ten hours of Frankenmuth. That's all of Frankenmuth I can handle."

Usually when Kanga made her lumpy, rough, almost too thick to stir, soy oatmeal Roo put up a fight that would rival Rocky and Apollo Creed's in the first _Rocky. _Kanga never let Roo leave the table until his plate was cleaned. Roo knew fights wasted time. Time he didn't have. Like a starving Somalian he shoveled down plentiful spoonfuls of Kanga's disgusting gruel. Kanga and Geoff watched in amazement.

"Are you my son or did you get a brain transplant?" Kanga asked as she watched Roo physically lick his bowl. Geoff glared at Roo with a repulsed look on his face and then went back to his paper.

"Geoffrey do you want some more coffee?" Kanga asked.

"No he doesn't," Roo said. "He want's to get to Frankenmuth. You two better be on the road."

"Shut up Roo," Geoff snapped. "Yes dear I would like some more coffee." He glared at his son and then drank his coffee extra slow. It wasn't until ten that Roo's parents finally piled into their Mercedes and left. Roo was about ready to bounce off the walls. Swiftly he dashed over to Tigger's apartment. He pounded on the door to tell him that his Frankenmuth plan had gotten them out of the house. But there was no answer. Tigger must have stayed the night at Pete Moss's. Even when he was hung over he would eventually answer the door if you pounded enough. Roo should have known Tigger would spend the night when he mentioned the Swedish chicks. Roo glumly walked across the backyard to the front of the house just as a taxi cab pulled up in front. Roo's heart began to beat wildly as a tall, blue eyed, Russian chick slid out of the backseat. Her hair was swept up with a big clip, her skirt was short and revealed a pair of fine and very long legs. She wore very high heels. With the heels she had to be about five feet, eleven inches. She dragged a small beat up suitcase and made her way towards Roo.

"Uh boy," she asked. "Uh little boy I am hear to see a Roo."

"Roo?" Roo said dumbly. Her accent was extremely thick, and very Russian. "There is no Roo here."

Sveta looked at a slip of paper she had been holding and frowned.

"Cab driver said this is right address." She said and she showed the paper to Roo. Roo's address stared back at him.

"This is the right address there just isn't any Roo here," said Roo.

"He must live here," Sveta mumbled. "I sent him present here. He be here."

"No," said Roo. "He not here."

"I'll go knock on the door. If he don't answer I come back later today. If he not here later today I come back tomorrow." Sveta said. Sveta dragged her suitcase up the front porch and began knocking on the door. Roo dashed down the street relieved to get away from Sveta. She was hot. Hotter than in her pictures. Even the heavy accent was hot. Seeing her in person made it too hard for him to let her down by telling her the truth. Roo ran all the way to the Thoughtful Spot. When he got there he sat down. He was out of breath from all the running and upset of meeting Sveta. She had said she would come back today or tomorrow. He had to make sure she didn't come back tomorrow. Roo wouldn't be able to throw his parents out for two days. Tomorrow was Sunday. Besides church they never went anywhere on Sundays. Geoff didn't even go to church. He was going to have to tell Sveta when she came back later that day or else he would get disowned and have to go live in foster care.

"I need someone to pose as me," Roo said. "But who? I don't know any thirty-five year old neurosurgeons. I'm going to have to find someone who can pretend for me. Age wise Rabbit probably would be the best match. He was the pretty puppet boy type like Jeff Gordon. Sveta seemed to like all that sensitive shit like _The Pianist, _cuddling, trips to the opera, and baking pies. Even if he had the wuss look Rabbit wasn't hopeless. Some women found wussy, nerdy, men sexy. Rabbit enjoyed gardening, cooking, watching HGTV, breeding show dogs, independent movies, cross stitched beautifully, and loved outings to Calico Corners and Michael's Crafts. Sveta probably would enjoy Rabbit and all his sensitive ways. There was just two problems with Rabbit. One was you can't have your cake and eat it too. The rumor around the wood was that Rabbit was flaming gay. Nobody knew for sure but it was reported that a popular drag queen by the name Ramuegan had been spotted leaving Rabbit's house at eight o'clock one morning, while his car sat in the driveway all night. Rabbit also had been seen at The Princess and the Penis, the Hundred-Acre-Wood's premier homosexual night club. If Rabbit was gay he would not be interested in Sveta. The other problem was that Rabbit could be a goody goody. He had gone to Christopher-Robin's parents a number of times to report his underage drinking to his parents, and told the cops about Tigger shop lifting a pack of cigarettes from the 7-11. Rabbit would definitely tell his parents about Sveta.

Owl was way too old. He probably wouldn't mind bonking Sveta, if he could still even bonk, which he probably couldn't. Owl had quite a lot of money which was something neurosurgeons had but an old and feeble Owl was probably worse than little kid Roo. Plus Owl would also probably squeal.

Tigger wouldn't tell, but he was too young, couldn't hold a job for more than two weeks, and drove a jalopy. Tigger wouldn't even have the money to take Sveta for a burger at McDonalds. Sveta was expecting Jaguars, tea at the Ritz Carlton, trips to Saks Fifth Acre, and flaming yon, not jalopies and burgers. Plus Tigger was probably hung over drunk somewhere. Eeyore wouldn't tell his parents but Eeyore was so morbidly dull, depressing, banal, and stale. Sveta had mentioned Russia being depressing in her letters. If she found Russia depressing then Eeyore would depressing enough for her to check into an asylum. Eeyore was more depressing than Russia when it was under communism. Eeyore actually liked communism. Roo decided Eeyore would be a very inappropriate choice for Sveta. Christopher-Robin again was way too young. What about Pooh?

"Pooh bear!" Roo squealed. "I'll ask Pooh. He's a little young, but with the right clothes he could look the part. He won't tell Mom and Dad. He doesn't have much money but he rooms with Shawsey Sanders and he has lots of money from his football days.

Roo ran frantically to the townhouse that Pooh lived ex star pro football runningback Shawsey Sanders. Shawsey answered the door.

"Hey Roo," Shawsey greeted. "You here to play with Pooh?"

"Actually I need Pooh's help with something," Roo said shortly. He didn't want to waste time explaining stuff. Sveta could be back any time.

"Good luck," Shawsey laughed. "I haven't been able to get that bear off of his ass all day. Since ten this morning he has been parked on my sofa, in my home theater, watching stupid movies on _Lifetime." _

"Well I need him," Roo replied.

"You can come in and try to pry him away from the TV set," said Shawsey. "But good luck."

At first Roo had thought Shawsey was just being stubborn and difficult. Shawsey had a reputation for being difficult after the way he treated the Hundred Acre Wood Wolves when he retired and refused to come back and answer any of their phone calls. But when Roo laid his eyes on Winnie the Pooh who's eyes were glued to the TV as if the _Lifetime _movie was the second coming of Jesus. In one paw he was shoveling down a half gallon of dolce deleche ice cream, the other paw was on his privates, fondling his scrotum. Dirty dishes from Pooh's big pig out breakfast littered the room.

"Hi Pooh," Roo greeted.

Pooh's eye's were fixed trance like at the TV.

"Pooh bear," Roo said again. "Pooh! Pooh!"

Pooh just stared at the TV, slurping his ice cream. He farted.

"Uh mice," Pooh grunted still trance-like.

"I told you so," said Shawsey. Roo had no time for crap today. He shimmied behind the home theater system and unplugged the TV. The menopausal woman who was distraught over her husband's affair with a toll booth worker vanished.

"Hey," Pooh cried. "I was watching that!"

"Pooh I need your help," Roo said. "Now!"

"Oh bother," Pooh muttered. "I'm no help. Leave me alone. Put my movie back on."

"You can help me Pooh," said Roo.

"Why should I help," Pooh muttered as he shoved down some more ice cream. "It's Saturday. I want to watch TV and I just ordered a pizza."

"You get a date with a hot blond Russian chick if you help," Roo said.

"For a date with a hot blond Russian chick I'd help you," Shawsey offered.

Roo had considered Shawsey. He was the right age, had tons of money, good muscular bod. But Shawsey was the kind who would go straight to his parents. Shawsey and Geoff played golf a lot together. It was too risky.

"I need Pooh's help," said Roo.

"I know," Shawsey said. "I don't really give a shit what you little diaper babies do. I can't imagine what a third grader needs Pooh's help with. What? Your mom packed you a revolting lunch you don't want to eat but you can't bring the lunchbox back full so you're making Pooh eat it for you?"

"No," Roo said. "But that's a good idea. I'll save that for next time Mom packs me a tofu and sea grass taco. "Please Pooh. Friend to friend. Will you help me?"

"Oh bother," Pooh said. "I do want to help you Roo, but I don't want to miss the movie. I was really into it."

"Tape the fucking thing god damn it!" Roo shouted.

"Roo," Shawsey gasped. "What language, I'm telling your dad next time we play golf." To Roo and Shawsey's amazement Pooh got up off of his ass and stalked off to the gourmet kitchen. Pooh opened the door to the stainless steel subzero fridge and took out a jar of pickled herring. With his fingers he began to shove pieces of the slimy fish down his throat.

"Pooh," Roo pleaded. Pooh whirled around and glared at him. With a full mouth he grumbled.

"I know I'm a bear of Lilliputian brain, but I do know when someone is trying to take advantage of me."

"Asking you to do a favor is taking advantage?" Roo shrieked. "Since when? Whatever happened to that best friends, friends stick together bullshit?"

Pooh took out a loaf of bread, some honey mustard, a tray of cold cuts, a container of wine flavored cheese, and some field greens, and began to furiously build a sandwich. "You come over here on a Saturday afternoon, my only day off. The only day where I can sleep as long as I want to, and watch TV all day. You burst in here, turn my TV off, and cuss at me. You expect me to help you?"

"Pooh," said Shawsey. "Since when is Saturday the only day off you get. As I recall I'm the one who pays the bills around here. You're the one who slept in until three in the afternoon just this past Thursday."

"I had to go with Christopher-Robin for an after school cheeseburger," Pooh mumbled. "If it wasn't for that I would have slept in until five."

"Oh poor baby," Shawsey muttered. "Pooh I'm sick of having you as a permanent fixture in my home theater room. Maybe I would like to watch some college ball on the big screen TV. Instead you're hogging it up with some dippy _Lifetime _movie about bulimic menopausal women on drugs! You raid my refrigerator, I can hardly keep up with your grocery bill, I can't invite any chicks, ex football pals, my old home man Wayne Fontes, or any of my golfing buddies from the club over here, because you're always laying on the coach, watching idiotic movies, stuffing your face, trashing the room with dirty dishes, and empty wrappers, and playing with your privates at the same time!"


	6. Chapter 6

PART SIX

Pooh stopped chowing down on his sandwich for a moment. As Roo watched Pooh whom had honey mustard drizzled down his chin he began to think maybe he wouldn't work with Sveta. Pooh took a long swig of strawberry Quick, belched, and said

"If Wayne Fontes had no problem with Scott Mitchell throwing interceptions than he ain't going to have any qualms about me pigging out, jacking off, and watching _Lifetime _movies on your sofa."

"Pooh just go help Roo with whatever problem he has and get out of my house for the afternoon," Shawsey said huffily. "Go now or else I'm going to inflate your rent,"

As if he had been sent to his execution, Pooh slowly finished his sandwich before he left with Roo. Roo was ready to jump out of his skin. He had just pissed away two hours with Pooh. Sveta could show up again any minute.

"What do you need me to do?" Pooh asked as he tried to keep up with Roo's brisk pace. "Taste some homemade cooking?"

"Pooh I need you to wine and dine my Russian mail order bride," Roo announced.

"What?" Pooh shrieked.

Roo explained everything to Pooh. He explained about the Russian Romance Agency, his online romance with Sveta, her hot long legs, the presents they sent to each other, the letter about her coming to America, how he banished his parents from the house, and about Sveta showing up at the house. Pooh remained silent. They were back at Roo's house.

"Oh bother," Pooh muttered. "I don't know how to speak Russian. Do you have any honey?"

Roo reached into the pantry for a honey pot and handed it to Pooh.

"I don't know Russian either," said Roo. "It's what makes her so sexy. We can't talk. Less talk more fuck."

"You've been around Tigger too long," Pooh mumbled with a mouthful of honey. "I don't know anything about doing brain surgery."

"I don't think she came over here for brain surgery," Roo replied. "She came to get laid. You have nothing to worry about. I have it all worked out. I've arranged for you two to have a steak dinner at the Ritz Carlton, I bought tickets to see the Detroit Symphony Orchestra play Shostakovich. You know he's Russian just like Sveta. She'll love it. To top it off when my parents left for Frankenmuth they didn't take the Maserati. They took the Mercedes. I have Dad's Maserati keys right here and you can drive it. I got the pin number on Dad's bank card so you don't have to pay a penny."

"I'm aware of the fact that I'm a bear of miniscule brain but won't your father wonder why so much money is missing when he balances out his checkbook?" Pooh asked.

"My Dad is so busy trying to put drug addicted child molesters back out on the street that he hardly ever balances his checkbook," Roo reassured Pooh. "He'll never notice. Plus I can pay it back little by little with my allowance. Anything to keep them from finding out about Sveta. Just then a yellow taxi pulled up in front of the house. "Hurry Pooh clean the honey off your paws. They're here. I'm going to go hide out in my room." Before Pooh could answer Roo dashed up the stairs to the safety of his bedchamber. Pooh glanced out the window. A tall leggy blond chick with a short skirt was getting out of the taxi. Pooh couldn't help but notice her breasts.

"At least they seem bouncy," he muttered. "Bouncy and squishy like honey cakes." Pooh noticed a man also getting out of the taxi. Roo didn't mention a man. He was tall with gray hair, and a huge Russian face. "Maybe that's supposed to be Shostakovich," Pooh thought, The doorbell rang and Pooh opened the door. The man spoke

"Hello," he said with a Russian but very easy to understand accent. "We're from the Russian Romance Agency. Svetlana has come all the way from her native Stalingrad Russia, to visit a Roo Fieger who lives at this address."

"That would be me sir," Pooh replied. He extended a honey coated paw out to him.

"It's great to meet you Roo," the man replied. "My name is Sergei Kostaslavalterkoff. I am a translator sent by the agency because Sveta has a hard time with English. If there is anything you can't understand that she says or if you say something she doesn't understand I will translate it for you."

"Uh," Pooh mumbled dumbfounded. "Can I call you Shostakovich?" He asked.

"I love Shostakovich. He's my favorite!" Sergei said. "Shosty five is my favorite symphonic work. I guess if you want to call me Shostakovich you can."

"Do come in and make yourselves comfortable," Pooh offered. "Can I get you some wine?"

"Yes. Me like wine," Sveta said with her heavy accent. Pooh led them inside to the living room.

"You live in a very lovely house Roo," Shostakovich remarked.

Sveta mumbled something to Shostakovich in Russian. "Sveta would like to know if they reason you have such a huge home is because neurosurgeons make lots of money. I've told her that in America neurosurgeons are very wealthy," he translated.

"Yeah I don't work cheap," Pooh replied. He hoped they wouldn't get into the neurosurgeon stuff too much. Pooh didn't know anything about doing brain surgery. Pooh located a bottle of Chianti wine in the wet bar and poured a goblet for everybody. Sveta touched her stomach and announced

"Me hungry."

"Svetlana wants to know if you have anything to eat," Shostakovich announced in a superior tone as if Pooh couldn't understand what "me hungry" meant.

"Yeah I have a rumbly in my tummy too," Pooh said. Shostakovich looked annoyed as he repeated this to Sveta in Russian. Sveta began to giggle at Pooh. Pooh traipsed into the kitchen. Finding food in Kanga's kitchen that a normal person could eat would be difficult. Everything Kanga bought was organic or soy based. Instead of chips and crackers in the pantry Kanga had sunflower seeds and cinnamon figs. Pooh never passed up food. He could eat anything but in Kanga's kitchen even he couldn't find food. He spotted a jar of organic clover honey, Organic or not honey was honey. Pooh loved all honey. Pooh grabbed the jar and brought it into the living room.

"You guys all down with having some honey?" Pooh asked as he dipped his paw into the jar and began to lick the honey off it. Sveta mumbled something in Russian.

"We aren't familiar with honey," Shostakovich said. "We do not have honey in Russia."

"Gee dude you don't know what you're missing," said Pooh. "Once you try honey you will see why everybody loves the USA."

Sveta reached into the honey jar Pooh was holding and submerged her bare hand into the honey. She pulled it out and just like Pooh began to lick honey off of her hand. Her eyes went wide.

"Mmmmmm," she squealed and began to babble in Russian.

"Sveta says it's the sweetest thing she has ever tasted. She says it's delicious," said Shostakovich. "She wants more."

"Well this is the only jar that I have here but we can go to the store and buy more. I wouldn't mind." Pooh replied.

"Don't bother going to the store just to buy her honey," Shostakovich said as he watched Sveta slurp honey off of her hand like it was droplets of water from the fountain of youth.

"No I really don't mind," said Pooh. "You'll love American grocery stores."

"Can I go?" Sveta asked Shostakovich.

"Svetlana you didn't come all the way to America just to go to the grocery store," Shostakovich said in Russian.

"Me want to go with Roo. Sveta like Roo. Sveta likes men with big tummy like Santa Claus," Sveta argued. She began to rub Pooh's shoulders and lick some honey that had drizzled down his neck. "You're just like a big, fluffy, teddy bear!" She giggled.

"We can get some pickled herring at the store," said Pooh. "And some baked beans, Oreo cookies, and a cheesecake."

"I can't believe that I'm in America and all I'm doing is going to a grocery store," Shostakovich bitched.

"No one invited you," Pooh said. "I write to Sveta not you."

"Without me you wouldn't be able to understand Sveta." Shostakovich snapped back.

"Roo do you think after we go to the grocery store we can stop at a shoe store so you can buy me a new pair of shoes?" Sveta asked. "These old heels of mine are dreadfully uncomfortable."

"That's the best English I've heard from you Sveta," Pooh said. "I don't see why we can't buy shoes. Let's go."

Shostakovich stopped his whining when he laid eyes on Geoff's black Maserati. Sveta rode in the front with Pooh, Shostakovich was banished to the backseat. As Pooh drove Sveta put her hand over his right paw and massaged it. Pooh had to admit that he was actually enjoying his day with Sveta. He got to go buy food and have someone else pay for it, a hot Russian chick was licking honey off of his neck, and he got to drive a Maserati. Pooh had the sunroof open, the windows rolled down, and blasted the jazz station of weather channel favorites that Geoff listened to. At the store Pooh loaded up the shopping cart with all kinds of American treats. Hot dogs, Pepperidge Farm cookies, peanut butter, honey, and frozen pizzas filled the shopping cart. After spending three hundred dollars on groceries Pooh took Sveta to the Somerset Mall. Sveta felt like she had died and gone to heaven. Pooh bought her five pairs of new shoes at Saks. Sveta also claimed that she had forgotten her nice dress in Russia and needed a new one to wear to dinner that night. Somehow one dress turned into three. Then Sveta said she needed jewelry, a handbag, shoes, and the right makeup to go with the dress. The Maserati overflowed with packages. Pooh usually hated shopping but this wasn't so bad. It wasn't his money he was spending, and Sveta didn't bitch at him if he wanted to go buy another smoothie in the food court. She just happily browsed the shop windows and then after Pooh was finished she reported back to him what she wanted. Any words she needed help with Shostakovich would translate.


	7. Chapter 7

PART SEVEN

After their day at the mall Pooh drove them home so they could get ready to go to the Ritz Carlton.

Sveta had her arm draped around Pooh."I like being American woman. I want to stay here. I want to lean how to drive."

"I guess I could give you a little driving lesson," Pooh said. Pooh pulled off to the side of the road.

"What the hell are you doing?" Shostakovich exclaimed.

"Teaching Sveta how to drive," Pooh replied.

"But she has no driver's license. She's illegal." Shostakovich pointed out.

"I don't have a driver's license either," Pooh replied. "The cops are too busy taking care of the housing projects in Detroit. They won't bother us."

"Me drive," Sveta said and stuck her tongue out at Shostakovich. "Me drive like American woman. Me American just like Demi Moore!"

Pooh and Sveta switched places and ignored grumblings from Shostakovich. Pooh admitted that he did help with the language barrier, but he still was awful annoying. Pooh couldn't fondle Sveta with another man watching. Though he disagreed with Sveta driving, Shostakovich had no choice but to translate the driving lesson.

"Keep your foot on the brake and put the car into drive," Pooh commanded. Shostakovich repeated this but Sveta still didn't know what a brake was. As she slid the gear into drive she pushed all the way down on the accelerator. The car took off down the road. Sveta began screeching and took her foot off the accelerator. Pooh tried to grab the wheel but Sveta's hand's flailing around prohibited this. The Maserati whirled off of the road and went rolling down into a ditch. The car rolled over at least four times before coming to a stop upside down in a cornfield. Steam sizzled up from the engine. Sveta began crying and Shostakovich coughed.

"Oh bother," muttered a shocked Pooh Bear.

"This why I didn't want her driving," Shostakovich said. "Russian Romance is not responsible for this. Don't expect us to pay for damages."

"Damages?" Pooh asked. Pooh undid his seat belt and rolled out of the car through the broken windshield. "Oh no," Pooh gasped. The car had landed upside down. The whole roof was caved in. The back end was all crushed and beat us. Headlights were missing. The front had a huge crease in it. All the windows were shattered. A tire was missing. The Maserati was totaled.

"Oh Roo," Sveta cried as she and Shostakovich hobbled out of the car. Shostakovich was grabbing his arm in pain. Sveta had cuts on her face and was limping. Pooh's nose was bleeding, and he had a gash on his forehead. "I'm so sorry I hurt the automobile. I hurt your automobile." Tears poured down her face.

"Uh it's not my car," Pooh muttered.

"You have it insured don't you?" Shostakovich asked.

"It's not my car," Pooh replied.

"What do you mean?" Shostakovich demanded. "Who's car is it?"


	8. Chapter 8

PART EIGHT

Pooh had no choice but to confess to Sveta and Shostakovich about who Roo really was. It didn't seem like Sveta understood one word he said and in the commotion Shostakovich's translating skills went down the toilet. Other people who noticed the overturned car in the ditch phoned the police and paramedics.

"What's a bear like you doing with a Maserati?" One of the cops barked at Pooh.

"It's not my car," Pooh said once again.

"Well then what are you doing with it?" The cop asked. "Did you steal it?"

"Oh no," Pooh replied. "The car belongs to a defense attorney. His son Roo is my friend, and Roo said I could borrow the car for the day."

"Well then we are going to have to speak to him and his son about this," said the cop. We have his home and cell phone number here on his insurance slip."

"Oh bother," Pooh cried. "Geoff is going to be upset that his son Roo was playing around with Russian mail order brides."

"I think he'll be more upset over his $80,000.00 dollar car being totaled," said the cop.

"Oh that wasn't my fault," said Pooh. "Sveta was driving."

"Why was the Russian broad driving?" The cop demanded. "She has no Michigan driver's license."

"Well you see sir," Pooh said. "She wanted to be an American woman. So I let her drive. Do you have anything to eat? I have a rumbly in my tummy."

"The only thing you're going to be eating is prison food once we speak to the owner, and find out if you did have permission to be driving his car," the cop spat.

"Pooh bear! Pooh bear!" Just then Pooh spotted little Roo running down the hospital corridor. "I heard about the accident," he said. "Oh god! Dad doesn't know about Sveta does he?"

"Now I know how Eeyore feels," Pooh muttered. "I've just been in a horrifying automobile accident and instead of asking me about the twenty stitches I have on my forehead you're more concerned about covering your ass."

"We'll tell Dad that the Marserati was high jacked by Russians," Roo schemed.

"I almost had her in the sack too," Pooh moped.

"Roo! Roo!" Kanga yelled as she and Geoff appeared in the corridor. "Is my baby okay?" Kanga gathered Roo up into her arms. "I'm so glad you weren't in that car."

"You bastard," Geoff hissed a Pooh. "How dare you steal my car! My beautiful Maserati, a symbol of my wealth! How dare you take my things and pass them off as your own just to impress some cheap, gold digging, Russian, mail-order-bride of yours."

"Oh Sveta wasn't my mail-order-bride," Pooh replied. "Geoff, you don't perhaps have anything for me to eat? I have rumbly in my tummy."

"I'm going to shove a rumbly tummy up your rectum!" Geoff snapped.

"Whoa cool Dad said rectum," Roo cried.

"Shut up Roo! Geoff snapped. "Officer, this bear stole my car. I want him arrested immediately."

"Yes sir," the cop said.

"Roo," Pooh said. "I know I'm a bear of minute brain, but I didn't steal your dad's car. You told me to take it so Sveta would think that I was a rich neurosurgeon."

To Pooh's horror Roo just buried his face in Kanga's lap, and didn't utter a word of defense. The cop held out handcuffs and began to handcuff Pooh.

"You have the right to remain silent," he bellowed for all of Ford Hospital to hear.

"Roo! Roo! Tell them! Tell them that it was you who wrote to Sveta over the internet. Tell them that you met her through the Russian Romance Agency! You chose to write to her because she had nice legs! You told her you were a thirty-five year old neurosurgeon." Pooh screamed desperately.

"Anything you say could be held against you in court," the officer went on. Pooh sighed helplessly.

"Oh bother."

That night on the way home from the hospital Kanga and Geoffrey stopped at Bennigan's because it was Roo's favorite restaurant. After Roo scoffed down a burger, fries, platter of mozzarella sticks, and a virgin daiquiri, he was taken home, given a warm shower, and tucked into bed with a mug of warm organic spiced apple cider with a cinnamon stick.

"There you go honey," Kanga gushed as she pulled the quilt around Roo. "Now you are no longer going to hang around with Winnie the Pooh. I'm so thankful you weren't in the car with that psychotic horn dog and his Russian mail order tramp!"

"Uh yeah Mom," Roo mumbled. He wanted to be left alone. Even though his ass was covered he still didn't enjoy seeing his friend taken away to prison. Maybe locked in a cell next to Charles Manson or Scott Peterson. Left with nothing but a glorified coffee can to piss in and stale moldy gruel for nourishment. Maybe he could have a care package of a ham and some cheese sent to Pooh's cell.

Things weren't as bad for Pooh as Roo thought. Pooh made bail because Shawsey Sanders was rich and had eight hundred dollars sitting in his bank account. Shawsey paid the bail, and took Pooh back home.

"That little smart ass is lying to everyone," Shawsey declared as they were driving in his SUV. "I'm not going to let some little spoiled punk throw you in the slammer. I can testify for you. I saw his desperate begging and pleading for your help this morning. I bet Tigger also knows."

"Oh bother," Pooh muttered. "Do you think Tigger will help me?"

"Of course," said Shawsey. "If not, I'm friends with Randy Moss. I can put an end to his partying with Pete real fast. Come on!"


	9. Chapter 9

PART NINE

Geoff and Kanga were still awake when Shawsey's black Hummer pulled in the driveway. Shawsey pounded on the door. Kanga answered. When she saw Shawsey she began to scream.

"Geoff! Geoff! Help! Help! There's a darkie on the porch! Come quick bring your shot gun!"

Geoff entered the room bitching

"Kanga what would you do if I weren't here right now? You have to learn to take care of yourself." He then noticed Shawsey. "Kanga what in the hell is the matter with you? That's no darkie, it's ex star running back Shawsey Sanders! We don't want to shoot him. We do want to shoot Winnie the Pooh! Shawsey you get that corrupt, slovenly, bag of horniness off of my property this instant!"

"Geoff" Shawsey said. "Let me speak with you. I know we have played many rounds of good golf together, and I would like to keep our relationship cordial especially if the Hundred Acre Wood Wolves decide to sue me for breaching my contract, but I'm an honest man, I stand for the truth."

"You can come in for a moment," Geoff said. "But that bear is not allowed in here, I will not have any killer kleptomaniac teddy bears from hell in my house! I'm only letting you in here because I know if you hire me to be your lawyer it means big buckos!"

Shawsey followed Geoff and Kanga into the study. "Want some port?" Geoff asked.

"Sure," Shawsey replied. "Got any cigars?"

Geoff rolled his eyes. He only offered cigars to his best clients. But since Shawsey asked he had no choice but to hand over one of his beautiful, illegal, Cuban cigars. He would like to add Shawsey Sanders to his resume as one of his famous superstar clients. Shawsey took a long puff and said

"No parent wants to hear this, but your boy is lying. He's actually quite good at it. Just like his Dad."

"Why thank you," Geoff gushed but Kanga elbowed him in disgust.

"Roo came over to my house this morning and in front of me, begged Pooh to help him out with a problem. Since Pooh is such a good friend he naturally said yes," Shawsey explained and took a swig of port.

"What problem did Roo have?" Kanga asked.

"The problem he has tried to dump on Pooh! For the past few months your son has been carrying on an online romance with a Russian mail order bride. He wrote to her and told her that he was a thirty-five year old neurosurgeon. Sveta wrote a letter to Roo explaining that she was coming to America just to visit him, so Roo needed to get a thirty-five year old neurosurgeon fast, the closest he could get was Pooh. I witnessed his dramatic tear jerking speech pleading for someone to cover his ass."

"You must be wrong Mr. Sanders," Kanga declared. "Our son Roo only uses his computer to look up information for school projects and to type papers. He's not into checking out inappropriate web sites."

"Ha," Shawsey laughed. "I bet if you went and looked through his computer you'd find all kinds of love letters, nude pics, receipts from all the gifts he has sent to her in Russia."

"He could be right," Geoff said to Kanga.

"No! Roo would never get involved with such garbage. He's a nice boy. He serves as an alter boy at church," Kanga replied.

"Kanga," Geoff groaned. "This man is Shawsey Sanders. We need to take him seriously."

"I don't care if he's the pope," Kanga retorted. "My son would not have a relationship with a tramp over twice his age with plastic boobs!"

"Why I would?" Geoff replied. "I wonder if Tigger would know anything. Tigger is his big buddy."

"I do believe Tigger knows," Shawsey replied.

Just then the doorbell rang again. Kanga and Geoff all went to answer it. Shostakovich was there and Sveta was rambling obscenities in Russian to Pooh who had been sitting on the porch swing.

"Get that Russian bitch off my property," Kanga squealed.

"So Roo is married?" Shostakovich asked. "Are you his wife?"

"I'm Roo's mother," Kanga yelled. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm a translator with the Russian Romance Agency. I brought Sveta here to meet Roo, the love of her life."

"You must mean Pooh," Kanga said. "Roo is my son and he's a good little boy. An alter boy at church."

"I have written on a form here that the name is Roo," said Shostakovich. He pulled a folded up sheet of paper from his jacket pocket.

"It's a mistake," Kanga spat. "You dumb Russians don't know anything. The name you want is Pooh. My boy would never do something so trashy. My boy is an angel. Perfection just like Jesus."

"This is my Roo," Sveta cried to Pooh. "I want to live in America with Roo." Sveta began to climb on Pooh's lap.

"So what's this a party? Why am I not invited? I love parties." Tigger awake from his hangover from the previous night noticed all the commotion on Kanga's front porch. A six pack of Bud was under his arm. "I brought some refreshment."

"I think I'll be needing that," Geoff barked and grabbed a beer.

"Pooh was arrested for stealing Geoff's Maserati. But Roo told him to drive Sveta around in it," Shawsey explained. "He was using Pooh as his thirty-five year old neurosurgeon."

"Pooh?" Tigger asked. "You mean Roo couldn't find anyone better to pretend they were a brain surgeon than Pooh?"

"So this is true?" Geoff asked. "Roo did have an online relationship with this Russian bimbo?"

Tigger just looked away. Roo was his pal and he had told him he would keep his word, but he didn't want Pooh in trouble either.

"I plead the fifth," he said.

"Damn it Tigger," Shawsey demanded.

"Sveta looked forward to Roo's letters like a kid waiting for Christmas morn," Shostakovich said. "Sveta loves Roo and wants to be the mother of his children."

"Just who the hell do you think you are?" Geoff growled.

"He's Shostakovich," Pooh replied. "He a composer. I'm hungry Shawsey. When can we go to Dairy Queen?"

"Shut up Pooh," Geoff yelled in his courtroom voice. "Or else I'm going to shove an ice cream cone up your ass!"

"Why are you always threatening to shove things up my ass?" Pooh asked. Geoff ignored him and said

"The only way to see who is telling the truth is to look at Roo's computer and just see what he's been up to. I know he's been sleeping but if he's innocent he should have no problem with us going through his files."

Geoff led a parade of Shawsey Sanders, Kanga, Shostakovich, Sveta, Tigger, and a six pack of beer upstairs to Roo's bedchamber. Roo was sound asleep unaware of what had been happening.

Geoff barged into sleeping Roo's bedchamber. Roo rolled over and woke up when he saw the herd fill into his room.

"Blond babe with long legs," he cooed. "Am I dreaming."

"Wake up boy wonder," Geoff barked. "I have reason to doubt the piss off story you told us tonight at the hospital. I want to see your computer."

"You can't see my computer Dad," said Roo. "It's asleep."

"See honey," Kanga said to Geoffrey. "Roo's computer is sleeping. We mustn't disturb it."

"Fuck that shit," Geoff muttered. Geoff made his way to Roo's I-Mac and smacked the keyboard. The computer immediately sprang to life. "I want you to log yourself online Roo," he ordered.

"Not now Dad I'm sleeping," said Roo. "I'm very tired after the ordeal."

"All I need is your password," said Geoff. "Just log yourself online and let us look. If there isn't a problem you should be back to sleep in a few minutes."

"Please Dad can't it wait until the morning. I'm very tired," Roo protested. He knew he was busted. His only hope would be to create a new screen name early in the morning and set up a new password. That was the only way he would come clean.

"Roo if you don't get your lazy ass out of bed and log yourself on to the computer than I will force you to resign from the rest of little league football," Geoff threatened.

"You cain't do that," Roo exclaimed.

"Yes your father can," Kanga answered. "He pays the tuition, and buys all your equipment. And don't say cain't. Makes you sound like white trash."

"I'm afraid that's what your son has turned into," Shawsey muttered. Sveta babbled something to Shostakovich in Russian. Shostakovich announced it

"Sveta says she doesn't care if it's a Roo or Pooh. She doesn't care about the third grade boy. All she cares is that she gets to be with him," he pointed at Pooh. "She finds him extremely sexy, and wants to taste more honey, and she wants to be his American wife."

"She hasn't smelled one of Pooh's farts that he gets after a honey pork BBQ sandwich," Shawsey laughed.

"I'll learn how to drive," Sveta mumbled with heavy accent. "Me drive like American woman."

"Your driving has caused enough trouble," Geoff muttered. "I have to find out if it was Roo or Pooh who wrote you because I can't sue Pooh for damages and theft if indeed my son told him to use my car." Geoff glanced icily at Roo who was just sitting there with a constipated look on his face. Geoff couldn't tell if he was guilty or innocent.

"Roo," said Tigger. "It's shit or get off the pot time. You aren't going to be happy with yourself if Pooh rots in jail for no reason. You should just show them what's in the computer."

"Tigger," Roo groaned.

"Roo, you have to be a man. Now you're not thirty-five but you can at least act like one by doing the right thing," Tigger went on.

"Boy I'm impressed by that speech Tigger," Kanga said. Roo sighed and slowly went over to his I-Mac and typed in his screen name and password. He had no choice but to give in. Hell probably his stupid father would send his computer straight to Bill Gates to have it confiscated if he didn't. It was the most humiliating experience of Roo's life. His parents, Shawsey Sanders, Pooh, Sveta, Tigger, and Shostakovich, all reading the personal letters he had sent.

_Dear Svetlana,_

_You don't know me but I found your picture on the Russian Romance Agency web site. I chose to write to you because I think you're a goddess. In America we call that a totally hot babe. I would like to see more of you and those kick ass legs. _

_My name is Roo and I am from America. I live in the quiet woods because I enjoy hiking and fishing. I am thirty-five years old, six foot four, lift weights, and I am a neurosurgeon. I work on many patients saving lives. Hopefully you will make my life a little better by replying to this letter. _

_Cordially, _

_ Roo Fieger M.D._


	10. Chapter 10

"That was the first letter," Roo squeaked after his dad read it allowed.

"What a bunch of horse shit," Shawsey said and even Tigger was laughing.

"I knew about the age and the neurosurgeon fibs but I didn't know you told her you were six four, and lifted weights."

_Dear Sveta,_

_I like it that you are letting me call you Sveta. I find that extremely sexy and thrilling to say. It's like the word "Vagina." It's quite poetic and fun to say. It tickles the end of the tongue. Maybe it's not your name that tickles my tongue, but the thought of someday tasting your flesh under my tongue when we are together. I find myself daydreaming about you when I am doing my work. Someday we will be together and we no longer need to dream. I am glad you like the perfume I sent you. Thank you for the chocolate."_

_Kisses,_

_ Roo _

"Where is the chocolate now?" Pooh asked. "Got any left over?"

"You had the hussy sending gifts here?" Kanga exclaimed.

"Roo wrote such beautiful letters," Shostakovich translated for Sveta. "Like poetry."

"I don't know," said Kanga. "I don't think comparing someone's name to the word Vagina is a turn on."

"Sveta," Tigger moaned. "Sveta. I don't get that much of a hard on saying it."

"Roo you have just disgusted me tonight," Geoff said. "It's not just this Russian crap, but you have lied. You not only lied to Sveta, but you lied to your mother and me. You lied to get us out of the house for the day, and you lied to cover your ass when the Maserati crashed. That lie put one of your friends behind bars. You didn't care. Have you no conscience? You're just like the rapists, and drug lords that I put back out on the streets. Pathological liars! You're scaring me Roo."

"I knew the Dutch Reformed Faith was no good," Kanga ranted. "Geoff I think we need to convert. Convert to a better environment. Let's become Presbyterian. If Roo was Presbyterian, none of this would have happened." Kanga was always switching religions. She had been everything from Jewish to Catholic to Hindu. She changed religions more frequently than some people change the sheets on their beds.

"We need to give Roo a talking to," Geoff said. "Sveta, Shostakovich, we're sorry for the trouble our son has caused the Russian Romance Agency. I know you spent lots of money flying Sveta out here just to find out her little love muffin was really a third grade joey."

"It's okay," said Shostakovich. "Sveta found Pooh. It wasn't a trip wasted."

"Pooh we're sorry for the way he treated you at the hospital," said Kanga. "We should have known that you never steal. We let our emotions get the best of us. How can we make it up to you?"

"Get me something to eat," Pooh replied. "I have a rumbly in my tummy. I've been wanting to go to Dairy Queen for hours."

"Here's twenty bucks," Geoff pressed a bill in Pooh's paw. "Take this and go get yourself a nice huge ass orange julius for yourself."

"Oh boy!" Pooh squealed.

"I'll take him now," said Shawsey. "Goodnight."

After everyone had left, and Kanga threw Tigger back to his apartment over the garage Geoff and Kanga sat Roo down in the study. Tigger had wanted to watch this. Said it would be better than pay per view but Kanga threw him out.

"You know we didn't buy you that computer so you could fill it with smut," Kanga began. "We bought it to help you with school. To do math games on. You haven't even opened your Encarta. Looks like all you've done with it is romance Russian bimbos."

"At least I use it," Roo protested.

"Don't get fresh with us boy," Geoff said in his courtroom yell. "You're in deep do-do pal. I don't care about school studies. We're taking the computer away. You can do your homework the old fashioned way with a Webster's dictionary, typewriter, and a calculator. It's not like you've used the computer for school anyway. You're not mature enough to handle it."

"Not mature enough?" Roo exclaimed. "Why Sveta thought I was a thirty-five year old neurosurgeon."

"Sveta is also a glorified hooker," Kanga snapped. "Why would you write all those lies to her?"

"I thought it would be fun," Roo said. "I didn't mean it to go so far. I had no idea she would fly all the way to America to see me."

"You've become a smooth liar," Geoff said. "Just like the kind of sleaze I defend in court. "You've lied to Sveta, you lied to get us out of the house. All that bullshit about wanting to show us how much you love us. Then you lied about Pooh stealing my car, and you had his ass in jail for a while. These are the patterns that lead to serial killers."

"Look I've had enough of mail order brides for a lifetime," Roo said. "I learned my lesson good. I got so scared when she started to write to me about kids and marriage."

"Well most men do get scared at such talk," Geoff agreed. "Until you can handle having your own computer, the computer will stay with us. You're also grounded for the next two months. You can tell coach that you are dropping out of little league football for the rest of the season. You mostly warm the bench anyway, it's not like they need you to win."

"But Dad," Roo protested. "Two months? That's past Christmas! I won't get to go to any Christmas parties."

"Exactly," Kanga put in. "Santa's been watching this whole charade. Trust me he knows everything."

"No _South Park_ for three weeks either," Geoffrey went on. "Your mind seems to be too cluttered up with trash already."

"I can't see friends, I can't use the computer, I can't watch _South Park, _what am I supposed to do?" Roo replied.

"You'll be going to Presbyterian Bible school," Kanga announced. "It meets all day on Saturdays and then two hours on the weekdays after school. It will teach you to be a good boy who reads the Bible instead of love letters from his Russian hooker."

"Now get to bed. Think about what you did," Geoff growled. "Tomorrow you can spend your day at church and then writing formal apologies to Pooh and the Russian Romance Agency."


	11. Afterward

AFTERWARD It had only been three days since Roo's big mail order bride fiasco, but it had felt like three decades. Kanga had called the parents of all of Roo's pals and told them that they were not to have contact with Roo for two months. His computer was gone so there was no web to surf or Sveta to write to. Roo spent his lunch hours alone with his cold moldy tofu tuna sandwich, and his organic lactose free soy based yogurt. After school he immediately had to run off to Presbyterian Bible Study where he had to sit for two hours while the preacher went around and around inside and out all over the Bible. Then he had loads of homework. Not so much for school but for Bible study. It was pretty intense.

One evening Roo was up in his bedchamber copying psalms for his class. He had been at it for a couple of hours already. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Roo said. He expected it was his parents again. They were always checking on him in his room since the mail order thing got out. It was like they no longer trusted him to be by himself. Roo didn't understand why. It wasn't like a new computer was going to pop out of the heat register. But this time it was Tigger.

"Hiya Roo," he greeted.

"Tigger you're not supposed to see me," Roo said. "I'm grounded and banned from all human life."

"Yeah I know but I have some wonderful news to share with you," Tigger replied. "I got it when I went to the library to use the inter net service. It's from Oksanna."

Tigger still had contact with his mail order bride. He was becoming a permanent fixture at the public library, he was there every afternoon, but not for the books, for the boobs.

"She emailed me today," said Tigger. "In three days she's coming to the Hundred Acre Wood!"

THE END


End file.
